


if you sing loud and clear, someone passing by will surely hear you

by ClockworkDinosaur



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Short, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 07:59:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11801802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkDinosaur/pseuds/ClockworkDinosaur
Summary: What wakes you, hours before you would have ever gotten up on your own, is the ethereal sound of someone singing.





	if you sing loud and clear, someone passing by will surely hear you

**Author's Note:**

> i love fluff
> 
> title taken from the lyrics of [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D501_HsGtQo) (which isn't very relevant to this fic tbh but worth listening to imo)

Something lovely wakes you from your deep slumber, and it isn't the cool hand of your wife smoothing your hair back, nor her soft lips on your face.

No, what wakes you, hours before you would have ever gotten up on your own, is the ethereal sound of someone singing.

A pocket of warmth that you're loathe to leave surrounds you underneath the soft, thick blankets and you have to force yourself into sitting up. With tired eyes you squint into the room. The bedroom is alien to you in the early morning light; the sun is just beginning to illuminate the edges of the furniture from an angle you're unfamiliar with. Kanaya, ever the early-bird, is nowhere to be seen. For a moment you stay still, afraid to disturb the dawn stillness, but that angelic voice lures you from the warmth of bed and out of the room.

In the hallway, the song echoes around you, bouncing off the walls and surrounding you with a hypnotizing chorus, a voice harmonizing with itself tenfold. You find yourself drawn to Kanaya's sewing room, the evident source of the music.

With all the slyness you can muster, you peek around the door frame. Kanaya stands amidst several mannequins in various states of undress; one has only a belt slung low over featureless hips while another is adorned in the finest ballgown you've ever seen outside of a fairy tale. You feel a swell of pride, Kanaya outdoes herself with every piece of clothing she makes.

Then your attention turns to Kanaya herself. She wears black slacks and a black blouse with jade-green trim. A tape measure is draped over her neck. The simplicity is elegant, and she's just as stunning as always.

But you aren't paying much attention to her outfit. You watch her face, focused and intent as she adds another layer of taffeta to a shorter dress. As she works, she sings.

It's effortless, the way she reaches the high notes and low notes without straining. Her range is truly remarkable. She sings in English, but the faint ubiquitous chirps and hums of Alternian still color the notes, giving her voice depth no human could ever hope to replicate. You stand transfixed, watching her voice weaves beauty from sound just as surely as her hands with cloth.

You don't know how long you stand there listening, but eventually Kanaya notices you. She cuts herself off suddenly, the song ending mid-note as she presses her black lips together in surprise. She takes on a greenish tinge, her rainbow-drinker glow flickering in embarrassment as you step fully into the room. You can't help but applaud and that only flusters her more.

“How long were you standing there,” she asks breathlessly.

You walk over to her, looking up into her jade-and-gold eyes. “Long enough to know that I've apparently married a siren,” you reply coyly. “You've lured me here with the power of your magical voice and I am at your mercy, oh mistress of the deep seas.”

You wrap your arms around her waist and look at her, fluttering your eyelashes in that way you know makes her heart leap. A smile grows on her lips as she leans down, her nose pressed to yours for a moment.

“I've only lured you here because a creature of beauty such as yourself should never have to suffer the harshness of land,” she says, playing along. Her hand tangles in your curls as her lips graze over yours. Your heart is fluttering, your legs weak as you focus on where her skin meets your own.

“Join me in my home beneath the waves, together our music will shake the skies,” she murmurs, her breath warm on your face before she presses another quick kiss to your lips.

Oh, that is definitely a proposition. Who are you to deny the call of such a mythical creature? Your face is very warm as you take her hand and pull her from the room.

 


End file.
